


two worlds collided.

by holdingnotoyou



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 08:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdingnotoyou/pseuds/holdingnotoyou
Summary: Shane isn't particularly happy with the fact that there's someone who isn't him in his brain.





	two worlds collided.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not a huge fan of soulmate au's, aside from the red string of fate and a handful of other one-off ideas that really get me. this one just got to me and didn't leave me alone, tho. 
> 
> without further ado, here's the au where your soulmate can read your mind and you can read theirs.
> 
> **this is not for consumption by the people i write about.**

Shane isn't particularly happy with the fact that there's _someone else,_ someone who _isn't him,_ in his brain. There are very few things he hates about his life―this very-short list includes Los Angeles rush-hour traffic and his favorite coffee-shop being corrupted by L.A. newcomers who have no idea what to-go orders mean, but this one―this one really takes the cake for him. 

His parents continue to tell him he got lucky. Although he did develop this weird, non-genetic _disease_ in his brain, it didn't kick in until he turned twenty six. The doctors told him that, usually, it was something that should have developed by the time he turned sixteen, so he was a little more than ten years off of the mark. Either that, or he should've had it since birth―after hearing the stories about the people who spent the first ten years or so of their lives thinking they were going insane, he was really thankful that wasn't his case. 

Here he is, though, at twenty six sitting at his desk in his mediocre office-setting listening to some fucking asshole in his mind go on-and-on about the fact that the illuminati _completely_ _and_ _totally_ _exists_. He groans, dropping his head into his hands―there goes the spreadsheet he was working on, it's not like he spent the last two hours working on it or anything. 

'Dude, shut the fuck up.' He mentally moans, and there's a moment's peace in the dark abyss that is his mind before the man, whose thoughts were unwelcome in Shane's brain, practically giggles.

'But, you can't tell me all of this information I'm giving you is bullshit! The illuminati is real!' 

Clenching his jaw, Shane lets out a heavy sigh all while avoiding the stare of his cubicle mate. 'The illuminati is complete bullshit, buddy. Hate to break it to you so bluntly, but there's no way that these lizard people exist―and if they exist, _yes_ , they _are_ lizard people―and if they did, why would they just take celebrities? There are plenty of normal human beings that I believe could use a mind-wiping to become senseless robots that only exist in order to meet a quota for their master.'

'Oh, yeah? Like who, smartass?' 

Shane smirks, dropping himself back into his chair as he picks up a paperclip. He clenches it and it bends to his will, the metal turning out of it's original shape because of the pressure of his hand. 'You, for example.'

There's another lull in the conversation, and Shane takes it as a small victory too quickly. He's been dealing with this guy for almost a year now, and he still underestimates his ability to keep annoying Shane even after the conversation has obviously died. 

'You're such an _asshole_ , dude. I can't believe we're soulmates! Why did I have to get paired with you of all people?' 

There's a lurch in Shane's chest that's unexplainable to him―it is explainable, he's kind of fallen for this mysterious Ryan person―but he chooses to ignore it because he doesn't really like the idea of being in love with someone he's never been able to meet yet. 'You love me, Ryan. Just admit it, you love me!' 

'Why would I love you? You spend every moment shooting me down like a dick!' He can practically hear the pout Ryan is throwing at him; after all this time, he's learned to read the emotions in Ryan's thoughts. 

'You'll eat those words, Ryan. I swear on my life. When we finally meet, I'm going to charm the pants off of you and you're gonna be eating a slice of Shane Madej pie.' There's another lull in the conversation, and Shane _would_ try to get back to work except that he's slightly―read, completely―panicking externally over the fact that he broke one of their only 'soulmate-communication' rules. 

'Shane Madej?' Ryan asks, and Shane can hear the tone of curiosity in the way it's posed. 'I thought we weren't going to disclose information like that.' 

Shane had come up with the stupid little rule one of the first times they spoke; it was a boundary that they wouldn't cross because he wasn't comfortable with the idea of his soulmate being a man, much less the fact that Ryan was in his head and knew everything he kept accidentally exposing about himself.

He practically functioned like a robot since then, never thinking about any personal information that Ryan could save and take advantage of one day. It was incredible that he could do that, it was just a shitty thing he said on an off-day that completely altered the way they lived both of their lives. 

'Yeah, well, I slipped. I figure it's about time, though.' Over the course of a year, a lot changed, and Shane was ready to accept it into his life. It wasn't like he could just leave Ryan; they were permanent fixtures in each other's lives at this point and they would continue to be until the end of their lives. What a horrifying thought. 

'I can still hear you, idiot.' There's not a scorned tone in his voice, but instead, he sounds―at ease. 'Bergara.' 

'What?' Shane asks, caught off-guard by the little word Ryan just left without context. 'What does that mean?'

'Bergara.' Ryan repeats, the word lulling in his ears, and Shane rolls his eyes a little more harsh than he meant to. It leaves him with an eye-strain that aches more than he'd like to admit. 'That's my last name, idiot.'

"Oh." Shane murmurs aloud, fitting the name together easily. 'Ryan Bergara... I like that.'

'Thanks, my parents did, too.' He remarks, and Shane snorts.

'You're such a _dick_ , Ryan Bergara.'

The quip is easy and hits Shane right in his chest―'You love me, Shane Madej. I'm going to charm the pants off of you when we meet.' 

'Oh, I sure fucking believe it.' Shane replies, and sighs once he sees his boss strolling through the corridor. 'Can you pipe down now? I really have to get some work done, bud.' 

'Fine, fine.' Ryan replies, 'I'll be quiet. We're not done with this illuminati conversation, though. Let me know when you get out of work.'

There's a smile that tugs onto Shane's face absentmindedly, and he ignores the quizzical looks he get from his office-mates. Instead, he focuses on getting this spreadsheet done―the quicker it's finished, the faster he can get home.

* * *

It's shocking to the both of them that somehow they're soulmates, the both of them currently live in Los Angeles, they run in very similar circles, yet they never find a chance to bump into each other. Ryan has friends who've bumped into handfuls of celebrities easier than he's been able to find Shane.

The thing about the two of them being soulmates is that it's incredibly complicated for fate to physically bring them together. Except, it's not fate―it's Shane.

'Dude, give it time. Let fate run its course.' Shane says to him, and Ryan outwardly sighs, staring at his own computer screen. There's a half-edited video that needed to be done, well, three hours ago, but he couldn't find the time between yelling at Shane and talking about Shane to his deskmate. 

'Fate is stupid.' Ryan says. He believes in a lot of things―he believes in ghosts, he believes that the illuminati has taken some of the world's most famous celebrities and mind-washed them, he believes there is a very real portal to hell at Bobby Mackey's in Kentucky―but fate, fate is a piece of shit. His parents chalked it up to fate that he developed what his doctors liked to call the 'Soulmate Syndrome' at twenty one, and they chalked it up to fate when they learned that his soulmate spoke English, that they were well-spoken, that they were in the United States. 

It was fate's fault that he was stuck with Shane Madej.

'You're not wrong, Ryan Bergara.' A flush of heat rises onto Ryan's cheeks at Shane's use of his full name―every time Shane addresses Ryan, he feels the need to call him by his whole name. Shane insisted that he just liked the way Ryan's name sounded, both in his head and on his lips. (That sparked an entirely new conversation between the two of them as Ryan insisted on hearing everything Shane's ever spoken about him to another person.) 

'We both live here, though.' He says, seriously. 'Why haven't we met?' It's a very loaded question, one that probably hits Shane like a shotgun blast to the chest. There's a silence that leaves Ryan's head aching.

He really fucked this one up.

'I don't know.' Shane finally replies, and Ryan releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding. 'I don't know if I'm ready yet.'

Ryan bites at the inside of his cheek, teeth squeezing the flesh hard enough to cause a surge of blood. 'That's fair.' 

'I hope that doesn't make you upset, but it's just been a real―mindfuck, you know?' 

'Yeah.' Ryan pretends to ignore the ache building up in the centre of his chest, rooted right where he believes his heart is. 'I know, dude. Don't worry.' It's not like he's hopelessly in love with Shane or anything―not _yet_ , anyways―but it still sucks knowing that there's someone out there, his designated someone, who doesn't want to meet him. 

'Alright, dude. Give me a little bit more silence; I'm clockin' out at five on the dot, so you can get back to your fuckin' conspiracies theories or whatever then.'

Ryan laughed aloud, ignoring the way that the people around him stared up in question. 'Fine, fine. Talk then, dude.' The silence was almost deafening as it fell against his eardrums, but Ryan had become adjusted to it over time. He had to become adjusted, whether he liked it or not. 

* * *

Something that Shane has learned is that the universe works in mysterious ways. 

He figures that it takes his feelings into account―for once―because it somehow keeps allowing him to _just_ miss Ryan. The first time it happens, Shane is dropping off coffee at a Saturday shoot for one of his old college buddies he's just so happened to keep in touch with. He doesn't mind it, not really, because it gives him a reason to get out of the house and moving around. 

Maycie thanks him a million times over, and Shane insists that it's not a problem—it's _not_ a problem, _really_ —before she has to usher him off of the set because yes, Shane, it is closed and no, you can't stick around just watch. That's what makes it a closed set. 

He just makes it back into his car before Ryan finally pipes into his mind—the first time this morning, which means he was just waking up—and the first thing out of Ryan's mind is 'Fuck'.

Shane turns the key in the ignition before he replies with a 'Should I be saying good morning?' It takes a couple of minutes to actually get out of the parking lot due to the fact that Ryan keeps having to tell Shane to _shut_ _the_ _fuck_ _up, he's running late for a video shoot and his coworker is going to **kill** him_.

Shane just keeps talking to him anyways. 

He's home by the time Ryan seems to make it to work, there's a marathon of Diners, Drive Ins and Dives playing on his Hulu when he hears Ryan's voice practically melt as he coos about how nice his coworker was to provide coffee for him. 

'That's cool, I just delivered some coffee to a friend because she and her coworker had to be up early for their own shoot. Guy wasn't there though when I dropped it off.' Shane replies.

'Imagine if you'd brought it to my set. You would've been shell-shocked, huh?' Ryan pipes up, and Shane laughs to himself before laying back onto his couch. 

'It's almost like we're ships in the night, Ryan.' 

He doesn't think about how true the statement is. 

It keeps happening like that, though; it's almost like a dance at this point, they keep going around each other and just barely cutting corners in able to avoid each other. It happens at parties, when Ryan leaves to party-hop just as Shane arrives; it happens during nights where Shane picks a friend up from the bar because they're too drunk and Ryan's just being roped in to a night-out at his office down the street. They just rotate around each other like the Earth around the Sun, and it's just fate working against them. 

As it always does.

* * *

 

'Should I wear a red or a green tie?' 

Shane purses his lips, staring at his own face in the mirror. He brushes a hand through his hair, staring at the way it sticks up for a moment before he flattens it again. There's a holiday party at the office where Jen and Sara work, and they were kind enough to extend the invitation to Shane to join them. (The invite wasn't out of the goodness of their hearts; they just wanted Shane to not sit on his ass all night on Christmas Eve's eve because it was sad, Shane.) 

The holiday season came around fast for the both of them―they had been so caught up in their own shit lately that they hadn't really focused on their relationship (the non-existent one, that is), nor had they really cared to talk about their plans for the season. Shane had avoided it on his end; he didn't like the idea of potentially ruining the holiday season by meeting Ryan for the first time, he had no idea whether they'd really click the first time they met or not. Why would he ruin such a good time with such a potentially terrible conversation? 

'Where are you going?' Shane asks in response, hands moving to fix his own black tie. It stands out against the white button down, as it normally always does for anyone trying to get the look across. He may be lanky and his body may be eighty percent leg, but he looks damn-good in formal wear. 

'Holiday office party.' Ryan replies, and Shane furrows his brow momentarily. There is a part of him that wants to see Ryan tonight, the holidays generally place him a cheerful mood—at least, the days he _doesn't_ have to work at his drab and unentertaining job—and there's a part of him that itches to establish an actual relationship with his soulmate. He won't say as much. 

'I'd go with red. It always feels more festive than green does.' Shane hums thoughtfully when Ryan agrees. 'I have a party of my own to go to tonight. Some friends think it's sad and lonely to spend the week before Christmas alone.' 

Ryan laughs, quite practically to the point that he's wheezing and something flutters inside of Shane's chest. 

'Well,' Ryan replies, 'It is kind of sad.' 

'Fuck you.' Shane replies quickly, quipping easily at Ryan. It's easy to do a lot of things with Ryan these days, almost to the point where if Shane overthinks it too much, he panics. 'Go to your party and try not to get too drunk, it's hard to listen to your drunken thoughts. They're so stupid, man.' 

'Okay, fuck _you_.' Ryan replies, a pint of laughter still in his voice. 'I'll dump all of my drunk emotions on you and you'll deal with it, Shane Madej! We're soulmates through and through, this means you having to deal with my shit for the rest of your natural life.' 

Shane laughed aloud, the sound breaking the silence that had layered itself over his apartment. 'Shut up, idiot. Go to your party.' Ryan seems to do so begrudgingly; he doesn't say much else for awhile, mostly because they're both busy and even though Ryan wants to speak to Shane, it seems like they both need to be on their own. For awhile at least.

'Holy shit.'

Shane hummed internally as he stepped through the doorway of the small house; he wasn't particularly fond of the fact that an office party was being held at someone's house, but he couldn't hold it against whoever planned the party. It was a nice place, and everyone seemed nice enough, so Shane would just have to get over it. 'You okay, buddy?'

'Oh, yeah.' Ryan replied, although there was something in his voice that Shane couldn't quite place. 'I just saw the hottest guy walk into this party.'

'You're cheating on me?' Shane laughed a bit, raising his champagne flute toward one of Sara's friends as he followed her further into the house. 

'Sorry, dude. If you won't get your dick wet with me, I gotta get it from someone else, right?' 

'Don't say that again, what the fuck, Ryan.' Shane deadpanned back and Ryan laughed. It did strike a chord within him though; the fact that Ryan was interested in someone else who wasn't him. Ryan was right; it was his own fault, if Shane wasn't going to put out for him, he should be able to get it elsewhere. At least until Shane's ready. 'Are you going to talk to him?' 

'Three more glasses of whiskey and then I will.' Shane laughed a little, telling Ryan to drink up before he turned his attention back toward his friend. They'd found themselves in a conversation with Jen and another one of their hyperactive coworkers, Ned, and Shane was quite lost but he was almost positive that they were fighting over the ingredients that were inside of hot dogs. What a weird workspace. 

Shane excused himself from the conversation after a few long minutes, using his empty glass as an excuse to awkwardly dance away from the group. Exchanging his glass for another, Shane leaned up against the wall beside the small refreshment table; it was a nice exposed red-brick wall, one that Shane was actually quite jealous of. It was nice to lean up against a good brick-wall while drinking, it kept him down to earth. The party seemed to be going steady, it was a nice change from his dull life; he was sort of glad that Sara and Jen had convinced him to come out because otherwise, he'd be half a bottle of red deep into a shitty Netflix original T.V. show. Shane learned that you could only do that so many times a week before it seemed like you were a depressed alcoholic. 

"Excuse me." 

Shane tilted his head toward the sound of the voice, eyes drifting downward toward the person. His breath immediately caught in his chest, mind spilling a loud 'Fuck' out. The man in front of him was beautiful; his muscles were taught and bulky beneath the white button-down, the red tie standing out against the stark white shirt. His skin was beautifully tanned and his jaw was cut, Shane swore he could cut diamonds on it. "Uh, hey."

'This guy is gorgeous, dude.' Shane swallowed thickly at Ryan's thoughts, trying to ignore the ones he wanted to send in return about his own new potential beau. "I haven't seen you around before."

"Oh, yeah." Shane nodded awkwardly, taking a light swig of his drink. "I'm here on behalf of friends; I'm too much of a loser in their opinion, so I'm trying to be cooler." 'Fuck, why did I say that?'

'This guy is so awkwardly cute. He's everything I imagine you to be.' Shane blushed lightly at Ryan's thoughts. 'Oh my god, I think he gets that drunk fluster like I do.' 

"Do you work here?" Shane asked, smiling a bit as the guy nodded. "What do you do?" 

"Oh, I'm a video producer." The guy replied, taking a heavy swig of his glass of whiskey. "What about you, mystery man?"

"I work in marketing." Shane replied, sticking a hand out for the other man to shake. 

The man responded with the shake of his hand, his grip strong and warm in Shane's own hand. There were fewer things Shane liked more in this world than a good, firm handshake. "That's cool. I'm Ryan, by the way." 

Red tie. Video producer. Whiskey. _Ryan_. 

"Bergara." Shane could hardly contain himself from saying, hand squeezing tighter on Ryan's hand. 

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Ryan asked, his lips quirking up into a small smirk. "Are you a fan or something?" 

Shane laughed awkwardly, releasing Ryan's hand from his own. "Yeah, something like that."

Ryan smiled at Shane before glancing away as another one of his coworkers came up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and murmuring something to him. "Fuck, I gotta go. You're sticking around, right? I'd love to get to know you later." Ryan offered Shane a shy smile, one that caused his throat to tighten up and his knees to quake. Shane cleared his throat before glancing around the room. It felt too claustrophobic now; his clothes felt too heavy on his body, and he felt like he was going to contort the plastic flute of champagne in his hands. 

"I don't know, maybe." He replied, and Ryan nodded before turning to follow after his coworker. Shane let out a heavy sigh before he trailed his way over toward Sara. She was very obviously in the midst of an animated conversation—her hands were flailing about, and she seemed to have no remorse for the alcohol that was sloshing over the side of her cup.

"I think I'm going to head out." He said to her in a low voice, shying away from the main conversation.

"It's so early!" She cried out; her cheeks were flushed and she looked more tired than she had been earlier, obviously already tipsy. "You can't _leave_!"

Shane laughed, patting her on the shoulder. It wasn't worth the fight against a drunk Sara; he'd just have to slip away from her and from the party before Ryan or anyone else saw him again. "Drink some water, kid. I'll see ya soon." Sara grumbled a bit before giving Shane an awkward side-hug, shooing him away as she got invited to the beer-pong table. Shane could hear Ryan's voice loudly throughout the party even as he wandered toward the door; he was in the midst of a game of beer-pong alongside people Shane had never met, and he obviously seemed to be winning by the loud 'Fuck yeah's!' he heard over the pounding music. 

Shane quickly and quietly exited the house, waiting on the curb for his Uber. 

He knew that it wasn't right—he should stick around in the party for Ryan, introduce himself to his soulmate and get to know him better in real life. He owed that much to Ryan, but he just didn't want it to happen like this. He was shaken from his thoughts as the car rolled up to the curb, barely stopping in time for Shane to open the door and get in. 

His house wasn't far from the party—hardly a twenty minute drive through the late night traffic—and the majority of his ride home was silent. The only thing he had heard from Ryan was his soulmate telling Shane that was fucking crushing at beer pong, and that he'd totally win against Shane if they ever played one day. He didn't reply. 

By the time Shane was actually home—twelve dollars poorer—was the time Ryan seemed to realize he had left the party. 'Fuck, I think that guy actually did leave. I guess he didn't like me as much as I liked him.' Ryan said to Shane and he tried not to focus on the pressure building in his chest; of course the guy liked Ryan as much as Ryan liked him, the two of them were quite practically destined to be together for the rest of their natural lives. He didn't have a choice. 'I never even got his name.'

'That's a shame.' Shane finally replied, resignation heavy in his voice as he rolled into his bed. 'Are you just going to give up?' 

'Oh, hell no.' Ryan replied, and Shane couldn't help but smile a bit at the harshness in his voice. He knew Ryan could put back quite a bit of liquor, but it was always funny to see him start to teeter off of the edge. 'He knows my friend Sara, apparently. I saw them hug before he left, I'm going to try to get her number out of him.'

"Oh, fuck." Shane sat up quickly, scrambling for his cellphone. He had to tell Sara not to tell Ryan who he was, just to give him a fake phone number and name and send him on his way. He couldn't have Ryan finding out that it was Shane, his Shane, that he'd run into that night and his Shane had so obviously avoided him. Fuck.

Dialing her number, Shane quite practically chanted her name as the dial tone rang. It took a few long moments for her to finally pick up, although it was too late; Ryan's voice came flooding into his head at the same time Sara said hello. 

'It was you.'

"Fuck me." Shane said aloud, wincing as Sara laughed on the other end of the line.

"What?" 

"I made a mistake. I'll call ya' back." Shane hung up without another word, trying to compose himself before replying to Ryan.

'It was.' He finally said, scrubbing a hand over his face. 'I'm sorry, Ryan. I didn't want to meet you like this.'

'You left.' There was a sour disappointment in Ryan's voice, one that stung Shane right in the centre of his heart. 'Did you know it was me?'

There was no point in lying to him. 'Yes.' 

'You knew it was me and you left? What the fuck, dude?' Disappointment was quick to shift into anger, and Shane sighed. He deserved it—he had no doubt about it, he deserved Ryan looking down upon him because he was too stupid to take advantage of the situation.

'I can come back.' 

'Don't bother. I'm leaving anyways. I'll talk to you later.' There was a dull ringing left inside of Shane's mind after Ryan spoke—it genuinely felt like for the first time in months they'd been able to shut off communication between their minds, like Ryan's anger had been enough to break the bond between the two of them. 

It left Shane feeling sick to his stomach.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated; i have no idea whether i'm going to finish the second half of this fic any time soon, but if you guys care about it/express interest in it, i might try to get off my depressed ass and write it asap. 
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
